


I'm Ready

by HPFanGirl99



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Grayson (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Character Death, Deathfic, Gen, Lazarus Pit, Resurrection, abandoned work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFanGirl99/pseuds/HPFanGirl99
Summary: “I’m scared,” Dick childishly whispered, not afraid to admit he was terrified of what was going to happen next.“It will be over before you even realize it.” Something broke in Tiger’s carefully maintained façade, and a gleam of something entered his eyes. Dick couldn’t tell what it was, perhaps pity or sympathy, but he couldn’t find himself to care. At least he wouldn’t be alone in his last moments.Abandoned work, may never get around to finishing. See author's note inside for more details.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I've had sitting around for a while and decided to dust off. I made myself cry while writing this, so I thought I'd spread around the feels.

“Agent 37.” The cold, emotionless voice came from behind him, just as he was aiming his grappling hook at a neighboring building.

Dick froze, before slowly turning around. “Is it time?”

“Yes,” The man with a spiral face calmly said. Suddenly, the spirals disappeared, only to be replaced by the all too familiar visage of his former partner. Agent 1. Tiger. King of Kandahar. From what he now heard, Patron.

Dick closed his eyes, before putting away his grappling hook with shaky hands. He wouldn’t be needing it tonight. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that this day was long overdue. One didn’t exactly quit being a spy, he’d been anxiously waiting for when Spyral would send someone to tie up the loose ends eventually.

Dick bit his lip, before softly whispering, “You’d be more than welcome at my funeral. I’d be more upset if you didn’t come.” He didn’t know if Tiger would come or not, but he figured he’d at least make the offer.

Tiger looked briefly surprised to hear that before he regained control of his expression. He calmly came over to where Dick was standing, clasping Dick’s shoulders with his hands. The grip was much gentler than Dick thought the spy was even capable of.

Tiger started walking him backward, and Dick knew he could trust Tiger not to let him walk off the edge of the building yet. Dick’s heart skipped a beat when he eventually stepped up onto the ledge before the heels of his boots met thin air. He instinctually clung onto Tiger, who tightened his grip on his shoulders.

“I’m scared,” Dick childishly whispered, not afraid to admit he was terrified of what was going to happen next.

“It will be over before you even realize it.” Something broke in Tiger’s carefully maintained façade, and a gleam of something entered his eyes. Dick couldn’t tell what it was, perhaps pity or sympathy, but he couldn’t find himself to care. At least he wouldn’t be alone in his last moments.

He had hoped that Tiger had felt at least _something_ for him that would’ve stopped him from carrying out the assignment, but clearly, he was wrong. At least Tiger was carrying out the hit in this manner.

It had felt like a lifetime ago. They’d had some downtime, and Tiger had suddenly become very solemnly and grave, before asking ‘How do you want to die?’

He had immediately been suspicious that the only reason Tiger was asking was so he could kill him that way when he’d inevitably got the order. But for some reason, he’d felt like he could trust Tiger with the answer.

He didn’t want to die in the heat of a battle, instantly killed by a sniper’s gunfire, or slowly bleed out from his wounds. No, he’d always wanted to fall to his death.

It was how his parents had been killed, and it would be only fitting that the last Flying Grayson went out in the same way. He wanted his last moments to be knowing the ground was getting closer and closer, and there was nothing he could do to stop his descent. It would be the ultimate thrill, one that he had never been able to achieve before.

Oh, he’d fallen many times in his career as a vigilante. But every single time, he’d either been rescued or he’d managed to save himself in the nick of time. Even though he knew he’d make quite a mess once he hit the ground, he couldn’t find himself to care. It would be his last performance; one that he’d dreamed about many times before.

After he had confided that in Tiger, the spy had calmly nodded, looking thoughtful. He had remembered hoping Tiger would kill him in that way once the time was right. To his utter relief, it appeared Tiger had remembered that conversation and was respecting his wishes.

Dick nervously swallowed and kept looking straight at Tiger. If he turned around, he knew he’d start panicking even more. That was the number one rule for acrobats, _don’t look down_. He wanted his last moments to be somewhat peaceful and calm, not frightened and terrified.

“Thank you. For coming in person, instead of sending some nameless, faceless spy to snipe me down without warning,” Dick gratefully got out, his voice shaking.

“Only the best for someone I consider to be a friend,” Tiger softly said, and Dick’s eyes went wide at the admission. After a moment, Tiger’s expression hardened. “Ready?”

Dick closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself. After a moment, he opened them again as he let go of Tiger. “I’m ready.”

The grip on his shoulders tightened ever so slightly before he was pushed. Dick’s stomach swooped as he felt the all too familiar sensation of nothing supporting his back. His feet left the ledge, and he was falling.

Dick could feel the wind screaming in his ears, and he was back in the circus again. His parents were falling, and all he could hear was the screams of the crowd watching in shock.

He resolutely stared up at the sky, faintly disappointed that he couldn’t see anything except the city smog. He used to love falling asleep under the stars, with his parents next to him pointing out the constellations. Back when they had been _alive, _and they’d been one big, happy family with the circus. It had been a simpler time when all he had to worry about was training for the next performance.

To his utter delight, the Batsignal suddenly appeared on the clouds. It was almost as if the city wanted to give one of their first heroes a proper farewell. How fitting.

Tears welled up his eyes, and the wind effortlessly wiped them away. He only wished he’d been able to say a proper goodbye to everyone. If he had known that tonight he was going to die, he would’ve spent the last week differently. Then again, life wasn’t fair. He’d learned that harsh truth that the moment his parents had been murdered over one man’s greed.

Dick couldn’t help but wonder how he’d be remembered. He hoped he’d made enough of a positive impact that he’d be missed by at least someone. That when his name was brought up, people thought of the good deeds he’d done and everything he’d done in the name of justice.

Dick knew it was a selfish thought, but he’d like at least one statue made in his memory. He’d be satisfied even if one plaque was dedicated to him.

An unnatural calm overtook him, and Dick was mildly confused at how long this was taking. Logically, the fall from the 13-story building only should’ve taken a few seconds. It felt like an eternity. Dick couldn’t find it in himself to complain, after all, he’d get more time to savor the moment.

“Mom, Dad, I’m coming.” A small smile lit up his face just before he hit the ground. His entire body briefly exploded in pain, before everything went mercifully black.

Tiger rappelled down the building, before silently landing on the ground. Being careful not to step into the growing pool of blood, he crouched down next to the body. He lightly pressed a finger to Dick’s neck and closed his eyes when he didn’t feel a pulse.

A single tear slowly dripped down his face, and he wiped it away. He briefly stared at his wet glove in surprise, he couldn’t remember the last time he had cried.

He pulled out his phone, before calling up a number. “Mission complete. Agent 37 is dead.” He reverted back to the cold, emotionless mask he normally wore.

“Excellent work, Patron. Proceed as planned.” The voice replied back, before the other hung up. Tiger frowned, before gently brushing some stray hairs out of Dick’s face.

He mentally cursed his sloppiness when he realized he was lingering at the scene of the crime. He quickly slid back into the shadows, back where he was comfortable. Spies didn’t belong in the spotlight, they hid in dark, committing their crimes and disappearing without anyone knowing otherwise.

Tiger allowed himself a moment to mourn his former partner, before disappearing. The only thing he left was a whisper of “I’m sorry” echoing throughout the night.


	2. Ending: Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know it's been a while since I posted anything, and I'm sorry for that. I've had a lot of homework, along with a minor case of writer's block. The semester will be over in about a month, and hopefully, I'll have more free time to write. Now that I got this out of the way, I'm going to temporarily go back to "To Thaw the Demon’s Frozen Heart". I want to try to get a couple more chapters of that out before school ends.
> 
> There's going to be two different endings to this, completely different one-shots. This is the happy version. I want to try to get the sad version out during winter break, but don't hold your breath.

Dick regained consciousness to the sensation of drowning. Instinctually, he started to panic. Can’t breathe. Can’t feel. Can’t think.

Focus. What was the last thing he remembered? Flashes of one memory were chaotically bouncing around in his head. A spiral face. A man in a turban. A spy. Allowing himself to be walked back towards the ledge. Being pushed off a building. Falling. Night sky. Wind blowing. Hitting the ground. Pain. Everything going black.

_The knowledge that he’d come to terms with the fact that he was going to die._

He died, didn’t he? He had to have. The chances of surviving the fall from the 13-story building were near _impossible_.

Then if he died, when why was he awake now? Dick hesitantly opened his eyes and was met with the sight of green. _Glowing green._ He was surrounded by the green. It was everywhere. He only knew one green like this. _Lazarus Pit_.

He’d been resurrected. Who? Who’d thrown him into the Lazarus Pit? They had all agreed never to use the Lazarus Pit, after seeing what it had done. Who are they? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t seem too important right now.

He knew the answers lay beyond the green, so he frantically made his way upwards. His limbs felt heavy and stiff; as if he hadn’t used them in a while. Probably hadn’t. How long had he been dead? An hour? A day? A week?

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Dick managed to break the surface. His fingers scrambled for purchase on the smooth ground as he struggled to haul himself out of the pit.

His lungs burned as he started hacking up mouthful after mouthful of the evil water. Once he finished with that, he stiffened, sensing a presence nearby. Immediately, he knew it had to be whoever had brought him back to life.

Anger welled up in him. He’d made peace with the fact that he’d never see his family or friends ever again. How _dare _they not let him get a chance to finally be with his parents. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want anyone trying to resurrect him or traveling back in time to prevent his death.

Dick startled when a sword clattered to the ground in front of him. “Come, Detective. Dance with me,” a somewhat familiar voice purred out. He slowly looked up to see a pair of eyes identical in color to the waters he’d just come out of. Ra’s al Ghul.

He hesitantly picked up the sword as he carefully got to his feet. The weapon felt both heavy and light in his hands. Had he used it before? Something was telling him he had.

Dick instantly took note of the unrepentant gleam in the immortal’s eyes. Fury lit through him at the realization that Ra’s didn’t feel any remorse over what he did.

All he could think was he wanted to hurt Ra’s for bringing him back. He never asked for it. It would be too easy to lose himself in the appealing cloud of rage slowly encroaching upon his mind. And he did.

Dick surged forward, tightening his grip on the sword as he raised it upwards. The last thing he noticed before he lost himself in the green was the victorious smirk on Ra’s face.

Distantly, he could hear someone screaming, but he didn’t recognize any of the words. Was it him? He couldn’t tell. His mouth was moving, but he wasn’t sure if anything was coming out. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, he couldn’t comprehend any of them.

Every fiber of his being was telling him to make Ra’s bleed, to make him pay. Which, he seemed to be doing a fairly decent job of doing just that. The immortal was sporting several long cuts and wounds. Logically, he knew he had to be in a similar state. However, he didn’t know for sure. He was completely numb, and he could barely feel anything.

After a while, he noticed his body was moving instinctually. He didn’t even have to think about it, things were just coming naturally to him. Clearly, it had to be due to muscle memory. Yet there was a familiarity to the motions; as if he’d done this before. Had he fought Ra’s with a sword before? It seemed like he had. 

Eventually, everything went black.

When he woke up again, he was utterly relieved to find out that he was on dry land. Unfortunately, he quickly noticed he was tied to a chair. He snapped open his eyes to see he was in a different room.

He yanked at the restraints, trying desperately to free himself. Luckily, after a few moments, Ra’s al Ghul came into view. “Ah, good. You’re awake.”

Dick’s eyes flashed at the memory of what had happened. “How dare you? I didn’t -”

“Want this?” Ra’s cut him off, lazily examining his nails. “I know. You repeatedly screamed it at me in multiple different languages.”

Dick felt anger start to well up in him again. “You had no right,” he hissed.

“See Richard, here’s the problem.” Ra’s leaned over him, a bored look on his face. “I. Don’t. Care.”

Dick angrily bared his teeth at Ra’s as he began struggling again to get out of the binds. Unfortunately, Ra’s clearly had taken the precaution of ensuring the ropes were extra tight. Otherwise, he would’ve been free minutes ago and kicking Ra’s ass into next year. That, and the fact that his facilities weren’t completely about him right now.

“What happened? My ninjas saw you falling through the air, not making any attempts to save yourself. By the time they got to you, you were already dead on the ground.” Ra’s drawled after a few.

Dick gave Ra’s an incredulous look at the sheer nerve of the question. “You honestly think I’m going to tell _you_?”

“Yes.” Ra’s grabbed Dick’s chin and forced him to look up at him. “Out of the _goodness _of my heart, I used one of my _precious _Lazarus Pits on you. At the very least, I’m owed some _answers_.”

Dick glared at Ra’s for a moment, before deflating. As much as he was upset with Ra’s right now, the immortal had a point. For Ra’s to do this was extremely surprising and very out of character. Sure, Ra’s would definitely dip Tim and Bruce in the pits, but _him_? He had a bad feeling this wasn’t going to come for free, that Ra’s would want to call in a favor sometime in the future. Perhaps that was the only reason Ra’s had done this, in order to obtain a ‘Get out of Jail’ card.

“Fine,” Dick grudgingly muttered, before reluctantly telling Ra’s what had happened.

Once he was finished talking, Ra’s started to pace, seeming thoughtful. “What does everyone think happened to me?” Dick hesitantly asked after a while when Ra’s didn’t say anything.

Ra’s stopped his pacing, giving him an amused look. “You’ve been missing for 4 days now. My ninjas got to you moments after you hit the ground and cleaned up the whole scene. Nobody has a clue as to what occurred, and think you’ve been kidnapped. All the heroes are currently searching frantically for you.”

“Oh.” Dick felt a surge of guilt at the idea that everyone was worried about him. He knew they’d be even more worried to hear that he died. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be allowed out of the Batcave for at least a year. Well, considering he was going to need to learn how to control the Pit madness, it was probably for the best.

Dick was suddenly hit by a surge of panic as a thought came to mind. “Huntress! She’s in danger!” Dick started yanking on the restraints with renewed vigor.

“Why is that?” Ra’s bemusedly asked, seeming wary.

“Helena was Matron!” At Ra’s confused look, Dick scowled at him. “The former director! Oh my god, they could be coming after her next! I need to warm her!”

Ra’s let out a low sigh. “No. I need to keep you here for a few days to monitor you.”

Dick felt a spike of rage at that. “Let me go,” he lowly growled out. He could feel the green slowly starting to encroach on his mind again.

Ra’s leaned over him, seeming irritated. “No.”

“Let. Me. Go. Ra’s.” Dick lunged forward in the chair as much as the ropes would allow, which wasn’t much.

“Soon,” Ra’s drawled in what seemed to be a soothing tone.

Dick glared at Ra’s, still trying to get out of the bonds. He scowled when Ra’s disappeared behind him, wanting to yell at the immortal more. A damp cloth was suddenly clamped over his face, and Dick let out a terrified yelp. He frantically struggled as he tried not to breathe in the smell of chloroform, but it was useless. Within a few seconds, everything went dark again.

\-------

Slade tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to Ra’s tell him about what had happened over the last few days.

It wasn’t until Ra’s muttered “I don’t understand why he kept saying that he didn’t want to be brought back to life,” that Slade felt his headache increase.

“You don’t know?” Slade incredulously asked.

Ra’s raised an eyebrow at him. “Know what?”

Slade let out a low groan. Was Ra’s pretending to be ignorant, or was he truly in the dark?

“Know what, Wilson?” Ra’s irritably snapped out, his voice carrying a clear warning.

Slade pursed his lips as he tried to figure out the best way to put this. “Grayson had a couple of demands for when he died. One of them was that he didn’t want anyone to resurrect him or time travel to prevent his death.”

Ra’s looked genuinely surprised to hear that, and Slade grimaced. Of all the people Dick hadn’t thought to inform, it had to be the _one _person who would do something like this.

“I see,” Ra’s murmured after a while. “I did not know of that.”

Slade let out an amused snort. “Come on, al Ghul. Even if you _had _known, would you still have respected his wishes?”

Ra’s frowned, seeming to think over the question. “Perhaps. Depending on the circumstances that led to Richard’s death,” he eventually answered.

Slade raised an eyebrow but knew that that was as honest of an answer he’d ever get out of the immortal. That was pretty fair though.

“How did you know?” Ra’s curiously asked.

Slade let out a tired sigh at the question. “Shortly after he came back from Spyral, he went around informing everyone about it.”

He had reacted poorly, as had many others. After a lot of mental debating, he had reluctantly agreed to abide by Dick’s request. _Extremely_ reluctantly. However, he knew that Dick deserved a chance to finally be at peace, to see his parents again.

Ra’s hummed, seeming thoughtful. After a few minutes of silence, Slade had enough of the stalling. “Why did you call me here?”

“I owe you for that nasty business in Russia.” A slow smirk curled Ra’s face, which could only mean nothing but trouble. “I’m not in the mood to deal with Richard. Therefore, I’m giving him to you. Kill two birds with one stone.”

Slade froze in shock. “I’m sorry?” he managed to get out after a moment. Maybe his hearing was going in his old age; since he was pretty sure he had misheard Ra’s.

Ra’s grinned before his voice dipped into a persuasive purr. “Richard’s vulnerable from his dip in the Lazarus Pit. It would be more than easy to turn him to the ‘dark side’.”

Slade’s eye went wide at the thought, and he could almost see it. The idea of Dick wearing his colors...answering only to him...calling him ‘Master’...them killing together... It would be like a dream come true. He’d finally get the apprentice that he always had wanted. Rose had been a failure, and the Titans East hadn’t worked out. Renegade would truly happen, not that pathetic attempt Dick had done to infiltrate the Society.

“So, I can do whatever I want with Grayson?” Slade warily asked.

“Anything,” Ra’s lazily shrugged, seeming amused.

Slade bit his lip, something he hadn’t done in ages. “I... Where is he?”

Ra’s chuckled, before spinning around and walking away. Slade hesitantly followed him to a small room and had to resist the urge to slap Ra’s. Dick was tied to a chair, with stiff clothes and hair plastered to his head. Clearly, he hadn’t been given a chance to clean up.

Slade immediately strode over to Dick and frowned at how his Nightwing costume had several long slices into it. He gave Ra’s an inquiring look, it almost looked like...

“I wasn’t in the mood to get into a fistfight with a Pit crazy Nightwing. So, I tossed him a sword.” Ra’s grimaced at the thought, and Slade honestly couldn’t blame him for that. Well, actually, he’d be _thrilled_ at the chance to fight a temporarily enhanced Nightwing.

He’d been debating for years as to whether to give Dick the same serum he had been given by the army decades ago. It had been a good thing he had held off after seeing what it had done to Rose; since it gave him the chance to refine it even further.

Now, he had an even bigger justification for giving Dick the serum. However, Dick would never forgive him. He knew that Dick would _kill_ for the regeneration and heightened abilities, but not the practical immortality that came with it. Maybe he should _ask_ Dick if he’d like the serum, instead of just making that choice for him.

He knew Dick _hated _with a passion when other people made decisions for him. If there was one thing Dick valued above all else, it was his independence. It didn’t matter that his decisions were often terrible ones, it was the _principle_ of things.

Yeah, he’d be better off _asking _Dick and maybe even running it by Wayne. It was well known that Batman didn’t like people messing around with his current/former sidekicks.

“How long will he be unconscious for?” Slade questioned as he started undoing the bonds tying Dick to the chair.

Ra’s pursed his lips in thought. “An hour or two, give or take.”

Once he was finished with that task, he carefully slung Dick over his shoulder. “We’ll be even now,” Ra’s drawled.

“We’ll be even now,” Slade easily repeated, before spinning around and heading out.

He made his way to his truck, before lying Dick down in the front seat, his head resting on his lap. Slade got behind the wheel, before starting the engine and driving away.

Once he was a safe distance from Ra’s hideout, he allowed his mind to wander with the possibilities. It would be far too easy to take Dick to one of his safehouses overseas and mold him into Renegade. The heroes had already paid him a visit demanding to know if he knew where Dick was. He doubted they’d check on him for a while.

But the thought of an evil Dick...

The small voice in his head that sounded like Billy was screaming at him to give Dick back to the heroes. That for once, to be the good guy. Besides, he cynically thought, the number of favors he could get out of Batman and the League for not taking advantage of this situation... Well, he should be able to remain out of jail for quite a while.

What to do? What to do?

Slade was broken out of his thoughts shortly later by a soft groan. He quickly parked the car on the side of the road, grateful that he was in a rural area where hopefully nobody would pass by.

“Dick,” he lowly said.

Dick slowly stirred, before shooting upright. “Slade?”

“Ra’s told me what happened,” he warily got out.

Instantly, a look of fury curled Dick’s face as his eyes went a glowing green. Slade paled ever so slightly as his mind went into overdrive trying to diffuse Dick’s Pit induced temper. “He didn’t know.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, as Dick deflated ever so slightly. “I didn’t want this,” Dick choked out, glowing green eyes slowly fading to blue as tears welled up in them.

“I know,” Slade softly cooed as he quickly swept Dick into a hug, “I know.”

Almost immediately, Dick started to bawl hysterically. Soothing words started tumbling out of his mouth as he tried to comfort Dick the best he could. Dick practically melted into his arms, trying to get as close to him as possible. A faint smirk curled his face as he tightened his grip on Dick.

After knowing someone quite intimately for over a decade, you tended to learn a lot about them. From Dick’s favorite color (blue) to what made him tick (a surprising number of things).

And there were a few key aspects of Dick that he’d found were the easiest to manipulate. Mainly, Dick’s desperate need for physical contact. That all he wanted was for someone to just hold and take care of him. How Dick was starved for the smallest touches and gestures, which was why he was always so affectionate with others.

Of course, he’d found it all rather ironic, considering that he’d never been a very touchy-feely person, to begin with. If Addie could see him now, she’d probably piss herself from laughing so hard.

It was quite easy to take advantage of, really; something he’d been unable to resist doing often over the years. He’d always wondered why nobody else seemed to pick up on it. Their loss, his gain.

Slade wasn’t sure how long they sat there as he tried to comfort Dick the best he could. Eventually, to his utter relief, Dick slowly started to calm down. “Slade?” Dick softly hiccupped after a few.

Slade lowly hummed in the back of his throat, not in the mood to say the wrong thing yet.

“Why am I with you instead of Ra’s?” Dick hesitantly asked.

Slade took a deep breath, preparing himself to mentally navigate this minefield. “He didn’t want to deal with you, so he decided to dump you on me.” There was no need to mention that Ra’s was partially doing this to repay the favor the immortal owed him.

“Oh,” Dick meekly got out, before his face hardened. “What are you planning on doing to me?”

Slade clenched his jaw at the question. It would be far too easy to grab the sedative darts he kept in his toolbelt and dose Dick with it. Then, he could start the long process of making Dick into Renegade. Sure, he’d probably screw Dick up a bit, but that would be inevitable.

As his hand was slowly reaching towards his toolbelt, he took note of the vulnerable and terrified look Dick was giving him and faltered. Did he really want a Nightwing that was a murderer? He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to live with himself if he _tainted _Dick like that. Besides, he always managed to destroy and ruin all that he put his hands on, what would be any different about this time?

How would he react if he found out someone else took advantage of a Lazarus Pit crazy Nightwing and turned him evil? He didn’t even have to think about that, he’d go after them with his guns blazing. _Literally_.

And he didn’t want to _think_ about how the _heroes _would react. Slade shuddered ever so slightly at the idea. There’d be no place on earth he could hide from their wrath. He’d be a dead man walking.

He had a feeling even a few of the villains would come after him. After all, the Gotham Rogues could be quite possessive of their vigilantes. A few of his enemies might even join them, not for Nightwing but for the chance to kick him while he was down.

As he took note of how Dick’s eyes were slowly started to turn green again, he made his decision. “I’m taking you back to Wayne Manor.”

“What?” Dick’s eyes quickly reverted back to blue. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that answer.

Slade sighed lowly. “Believe it or not, I actually _like_ you all annoyingly heroic and noble. You’re already going to be messed up from the Pits, I don’t need to be adding onto it.”

Dick stared at him for the longest time, seeming speechless. Suddenly, slim arms wrapped around him. “Thank you,” Dick choked out, sounding on the verge of tears again.

Slade let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Come on, let’s call Wayne. He’s worried sick about you,” he gruffly got out, reluctantly pushing Dick off of his lap and grabbing his phone. He dialed Wayne’s number and started up the car again, before getting back on the road.

“Wilson. What do you want?” Wayne immediately picked up. He sounded exhausted, probably from trying to find Dick.

“I have Nightwing,” Slade calmly stated. The moment the words came out of his mouth, he mentally facepalmed. _That _came out wrong.

Immediately, Wayne furiously growled “Give. Him. Back. Now.”

Slade pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. _Why_ did people automatically assume the worse when it came to him? Sure, he was a _supervillain_, but that didn’t mean he was _evil_. “Here, kid, explain things to Daddy Bats.”

He quickly passed the phone over to Dick, who immediately started talking a mile a minute. Once Dick stopped talking, there was a somewhat tense silence.

Wayne reluctantly spoke after a few. “Wilson?”

Slade raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Wayne gritted out, sounding like he’d rather be chewing on glass than say that.

Normally, in any other circumstance, he’d be thrilled to hear one of the heroes thank him. But now? Slade just loudly grunted, not trusting himself to speak right now.

Dick talked to Wayne for a while longer, which he easily tuned out. He was startled when he felt his phone slide into his pocket a bit later. He turned to look at Dick, who gave him a curious look. “Are we there yet?”

Slade rolled his eye at the faintly teasing question. “We got several more hours ahead of us, you might as well take a nap. When was the last time you got more than a couple of hours of sleep?”

Dick flopped back down on the seat, resting his head on his lap. Slade raised an eyebrow as he began lightly stroking Dick’s hair with one hand, the other gripping the steering wheel. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Dick gave him a tired grimace, before closing his eyes and snuggling closer. Slade let out an exasperated huff, even as a fond smile curled his face. Secretly, although he’d never admit it, he was grateful that Ra’s had brought Dick back to life. He didn’t know how he’d be able to live in a world without Dick Grayson in it.

\-------

Bruce furiously typed away at the Batcomputer, trying to prevent himself from breaking down. The past week had been an absolute roller coaster of emotions.

First, Dick had gone missing in the middle of patrol. No messages, no notice, no _nothing_. His first thought was Dick had been called away by the Titans or Outsiders. This wouldn’t have been the first time Dick had abruptly left in the middle of a patrol without notifying him to help out his friends. A few phone calls had quickly eliminated that possibility.

Once it became clear that Dick was missing, he reluctantly had enlisted the help of the Justice League. Clark’s hesitant revelation that he couldn’t hear Dick’s heartbeat anymore _definitely_ hadn’t improved his mood. The only thing that stopped him from decking Clark on the spot was knowing he’d probably shatter every bone in his hand doing so.

Shaking down the various Gotham Rogues and usual suspects had given him something to do. If he kept himself busy, he wouldn’t have to consider the possibility that Dick was really dead this time.

God, it would’ve been just like Jason all over again. Although this time, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to hold back from killing the one responsible. Well, he’d probably be beaten to the punch by half of the hero community.

After _five _days of worrying himself sick with horrific scenarios running through his head, he finally got the phone call. He’d never been happier in his life to hear Dick’s voice. Unfortunately, his relief had quickly turned to horror as he listened to Dick explain what had happened.

Spyral. He knew it had been inevitable, that eventually, they’d finally catch up to Dick. He’d been dreading the day that the order to eliminate the former Agent 37 would be given.

The only silver lining to this was he’d gotten 5 more years with Dick than he’d planned for. To be honest, he had been expecting to get Dick back in a body bag after he’d resigned from Spyral. He’d never told Dick this, of course, but he had the suspicion that Dick also knew that.

He glanced over at the training area, where everyone was hanging out and casually sparing. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the entire Batfamily all together like this in ages. It was a shame it took a death in the family for that to occur.

He _still _couldn’t wrap his head around Ra’s resurrecting Dick. He knew that Ra’s respected Dick, but he didn’t think enough to do something like this. As much as he hated the immortal, he couldn’t help but feel utterly relieved to hear that Dick was alive again. They could handle the fact that Dick was bound to get angry over not wanting to be brought back to life.

It was a good thing several heroes had been put into the Lazarus Pit before. That way, they would be able to help Dick out with his Pit madness. Thank god Dick never had that big of a temper, otherwise, things were going to get very interesting. As it was, he was going to have to tread very lightly around Dick for a very long time. He had a bad feeling Dick would be bringing up many old arguments due to the Pit’s influence.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a car pulling into the Batcave. He immediately stood up and strode over to it once it stopped. The moment Dick got out of the car, he crushed him into a tight hug.

Dick practically went limp as he began to shake ever so slightly. “Dad,” Dick choked out, soft sobs escaping his lips.

“Shh, shh, Dick. It’s ok,” Bruce lowly murmured, trying to comfort him. He could feel hot tears trailing down his face but couldn’t find it in himself to care. All that mattered that his eldest son was _safe_ and _alive_ in his arms.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there before Dick started squirming. He reluctantly let go of his tight grip on Dick, even though he just wanted to hold onto Dick forever. Dick pressed a quick kiss on his cheek, before rushing over to everyone else.

His eyes softened when Dick immediately went to Damian first. Bruce jumped ever so slightly when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He glared at Wilson, who had a sympathetic look on his face. They watched the reunion for a little bit, as he struggled to regain control of his emotions. Once he had sufficiently calmed down, he turned to Wilson.

“Why did Ra’s give Dick to you?” he lowly growled.

“He owed me.” As if sensing what he was about to ask, Wilson rolled his eye. “Let it go, Wayne. It’s something in the past, over and done with. Nothing you need to be worried about.”

Bruce indignantly opened his mouth, because like hell he shouldn’t be concerned, only for Wilson to chuckle. “Word of advice, Wayne. You _might_ not want to ask the villain who _willingly _gave your kid back to you too many questions.”

“_Fine_.” Bruce scowled because Wilson had a point there. He’d do some investigating later. “I assume Ra’s also said some rather persuasive stuff about how Dick could be easily turned evil in his altered state?”

Wilson shifted ever so slightly, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say the mercenary was embarrassed. “Yeah,” Slade drawled after a while.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that. “What convinced you otherwise?”

Wilson gave him a cold smile, no traces of humor on his face. “I may be many things, but I’m not _stupid_. Do you have_ any_ clue as to what all the heroes would do if someone took advantage of a Lazarus Pit vulnerable Nightwing? _Especially _since several of them have taken a dip in those cursed waters?”

Bruce grimaced, he had more than just an idea of what everyone would do. Dick was amazing at befriending and gaining the loyalty of all those he met. He knew most would _kill _for Dick, even the non-lethal ones. The response would be _overwhelming_ from everyone.

Granted, of course, they got there before the Batfamily did. He knew damn well all of his kids, _especially_ Jason and Damian, would come after anyone who hurt Dick with a vengeance. And he wasn’t sure that he would do _anything_ to stop them from trying to murder the offender.

“What do you want?” He hated saying those 4 words, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

Wilson tilted his head, looking faintly amused. Probably had already thought long and hard about his list of demands. “I want Dick to call me at least once a week if possible. He’s going to need someone who isn’t part of the family he can talk to. After all, he has over a decade worth of things to get upset about.”

Bruce pursed his lips, before nodding. That was an easy enough request to grant. Actually, that was a pretty good idea. An outsider that Dick could rant to on his worse days would be pretty helpful. _Especially_ one that wouldn’t be sympathetic towards the people Dick was furious at. Of course, there was no guarantee that Dick wouldn’t also get angry at Wilson, but the mercenary could deal with that himself.

“Anything else?” Bruce warily asked.

Wilson lowly hummed, seeming thoughtful. “I want to come here and see him once a month. Also, I’d prefer for you to call me first if he’s having an especially bad day and you need someone else to deal with him.”

Bruce grimaced at the idea of inviting Wilson here for up to multiple hours at a time. Who knew how many bugs and cameras Wilson could plant in here, or how much snooping around he could do?

At least he wasn’t asking for Dick to come to him, otherwise, he would’ve turned that down immediately. A minimum of once a month was somewhat manageable, better than a weekly basis. Besides, Dick could probably benefit from being able to spar with someone who wouldn’t hold back in a fight and would be able to take tons of abuse.

“Is that all?” Bruce gritted out dangerously.

“For now,” Wilson lazily drawled, a smirk on his face. “I’ll call you if I think of anything else.”

Bruce scowled angrily at Wilson. “_Fine_.”

Wilson let out a low snicker, before placing a hand on his shoulder and spinning him around to look at Dick and everyone else. “Come on, Wayne. Let’s just enjoy the reunion for now,” he lowly murmured.

Bruce immediately shrugged off the hand on the shoulder but turned his attention towards them, nevertheless. Dick had made his way to Jason, who for once wasn’t complaining or trying to get out of Dick’s octopus hugs.

“And Wilson?” he reluctantly muttered after a while.

He could sense Wilson’s curious stare but refused to look at the mercenary. “I meant what I said before. _Thank you_.”

He mentally thanked whatever god was out there that Wilson had decided to give Dick back to him. After all, it was quite well known that Wilson had been dying for the chance to make Dick into the perfect apprentice, the one he’d nearly gotten on at least 2 occasions. This time, he might actually _manage_ to succeed, with Dick being easily influenceable by the Pits.

He waited for the all too familiar mocking laughter, but none came. He risked a glance over at Wilson, who didn’t have a trace of humor on his face.

“Just doing the right thing for once,” Wilson murmured softly, a bitter tone in his voice. A snort of amusement escaped his lips at that, causing Wilson to also wryly chuckle.

He firmly turned away from Wilson, signaling this conversation was over for now. A faint smile curled his face as he contentedly watched Dick reunite with everyone. He was just glad Dick was back home.

\-------

Helena clutched onto Dick as if he was a lifeline, her body faintly trembling. She didn’t consider herself someone who was easily scared. However, hearing that Dick had been taken out by Spyral put the terror of god into her like never before.

As much as she was utterly relieved to hear that Dick had been resurrected, she couldn’t help but be worried for her _own_ safety. If they were getting rid of a lowly agent, the next logical target would be the former director.

She was just glad that she had enough connections leftover in order to be able to talk directly to Tiger. She had a ton of questions she needed to ask the spy on behalf of the other heroes.

Oh, Helena knew full well the only reason why she was here, was that she had also worked for Spyral. That and Dick apparently had been worried sick over her wellbeing. Plus, she was relatively safe with the rest of the Batfamily around to protect her.

Once Dick finally let her go, she gently gripped his shoulders. “Dick, listen. I need to let Spyral know that you’re alive.”

“Why?” Dick looked confused to hear that.

She and Bruce had argued long and hard over whether to tell Spyral. Bruce had been vehemently against informing them, but she had convinced him otherwise.

If Spyral found out that Dick was alive, they’d most likely think that Tiger had failed to do his job properly. _That _would most likely result in the spy either being severely punished or killed, which Dick would be devastated over. Then, they’d probably send someone to kill Dick again, which Dick didn’t need to go through all over again.

She told Dick as much, who hesitantly nodded after a moment of thought. “Can... can you give Tiger a message from me?”

“Sure.” Helena raised a surprised eyebrow at that.

Dick bit his lip, seeming to contemplate what he wanted to say. “It’s not your fault, you were just following orders. Thank you for carrying out the hit in this manner. It was nice to see you again, although I wish it was under better circumstances. Take care.”

Helena rolled her eyes in exasperation, although a fond smile curled her lips. Only Dick would tell the person who murdered him that he didn’t blame them and sound completely sincere. “Of course,” she soothingly murmured, carefully running a hand through Dick’s hair.

She patiently waited until Dick turned to the next person before she quietly slipped away to a more remote part of the Batcave. She grabbed her phone, before dialing a number.

Thirty minutes later, Helena was frustrated beyond belief as she paced back and forth. “Look, I don’t care if you have to run this by the fucking Queen of England. I want to talk to the current director, and I want to talk to him _now_.”

Helena took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Get me Tiger on the goddamn phone _now_. Do not make me ask twice, do I make myself clear?” At the sound of the agent practically whimpering in terror, a cruel grin curled her face. Well, it was nice to see she still had the magic touch.

In a record time of 5 minutes, Tiger got on the line. “Hello, Helena. You must’ve used quite a lot of favors to get me on the phone.” Tiger had that all too familiar steely tone in his voice, yet there was a tired note to it.

“Almost all of them. But that’s not important right now.” She closed her eyes, bracing herself for what came next. “I know you killed Dick Grayson.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. “How did you find out? I was very careful not to leave any traces behind, and to disable all cameras in the area.” There was an edge of panic she’d never heard coming from Tiger before.

“Dick told me himself,” Helena calmly said.

“W-what? That...that’s impossible! I made sure to check that he was dead upon impacting the ground. There’s no way he could’ve survived the fall!” Tiger sounded utterly terrified, and she didn’t blame him one bit.

“_Relax_.” Helena began carefully explaining the basics of what had happened in the last 5 days.

Once she finished, Tiger let out a tired groan. “Do you have any idea of how many hours of paperwork this is going to create for me?”

A bark of laughter escaped her lips at that before she became serious again. “Tiger, why did they put a hit on Dick?” Helena adopted a persuasive and forceful tone to her voice, one that she hoped would still work on Tiger.

There was a moment of silence, before Tiger’s voice dropped to a low whisper, an edge of nervousness present. “Look, I think I’m on my way out. I must’ve done something to make them not trust me anymore.”

“So, they give you a highly personal mission to see if your loyalties are still intact. Your task, kill your former partner without getting caught.” Helena easily finished the line of thought. She’d been put through several of those types of tests during her time at Spyral.

“Exactly. I...” Tiger shakily exhaled, a broken tone to his voice. “I didn’t want to do it.”

“I know you didn’t.” Helena’s eyes softened ever so slightly. “Listen, Dick gave me a message for you.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the phone once she finished reciting what Dick had said. “Thank you,” Tiger choked out eventually, and it almost sounded like he was crying.

“You’re welcome.” As much as she wanted to ask a million more questions, she knew it was best to wait for Tiger to recompose himself.

After a while, Tiger loudly cleared his throat. “Can you tell him that I’m...”

“Of course.” Helena gently replied, before her voice went hard. “Tiger, why did you push Dick off the building? You could’ve just set up a sniper perch somewhere.”

That was the thing that she’d been questioning this whole time. If Tiger had kept his distance, he never would’ve been forced to interact with Dick. He could’ve done the job in a matter of seconds and got out of there before anyone realized what had happened.

By going up to Dick, having a conversation with him, and then pushing him off the building, Tiger had added a completely unnecessary element to everything. The chances of him getting caught had also drastically increased.

Tiger was a seasoned and skilled spy, and there was no way he’d take such huge risks without any reason. Had Tiger wanted to say goodbye to his former partner in person, didn’t want to make this kill cold and impersonal?

Tiger softly sighed, before starting to talk.

Helena massaged her temples once Tiger was finished. “Let me get this straight. You asked the first sidekick ‘How do you want to die?’. And Nightwing actually gave one of the best spies in the world a straight answer?”

“Dick Grayson is an idiot,” Tiger said with a low chuckle, a fond tone in his voice.

Helena snorted in amusement. “You got that right.”

Tiger hummed in the back of his throat. “I... Dick didn’t ask to get caught back up in Spyral’s business. The _least_ I could do was kill Dick in the manner that he desired, make sure he wasn’t alone in his last moments.”

A faint smile curled Helena’s face at that. Despite the fact that Tiger would vehemently deny it, she knew he had a soft spot for his former partner.

“Am I next, Tiger? Are they going to send you to kill me next? I _want_ a real answer, and I want it _now_.” Helena desperately needed to know whether she should start preparing for the inevitable.

“I don’t think so.” Tiger sighed, seeming thoughtful.

“Good.” Helena felt a cautious surge of relief to hear that. “Are they going to send someone else to kill Dick again?”

Tiger let out a faintly frustrated noise. “Again, I don’t know. This really hasn’t happened before. I’ll try to convince them to leave Dick alone, but I can’t guarantee anything. Give me a few days, and I promise I’ll get back to you on both accounts.”

“Thank you,” Helena gratefully got out. “And Tiger? Be careful.”

“You too,” Tiger murmured lowly before he hung up.

Helena tiredly ran a hand through her hair, before sliding down the rough wall. She buried her head in her arms, taking several deep breathes. Once she had sufficiently calmed down, she got up and went back to the main area.

Everyone but Bruce had left by then, much to her relief. “Bruce?” she softly whispered.

Bruce spun around to face her, seeming tense. She played back the recording of the call for him. Once it was finished, Bruce looked faintly relieved. “Until you get a response back, you’re staying in the Batcave. No patrol, no going outside, no _nothing_. Someone will be here at all times. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” She actually had been planning on doing that, to begin with. After all, the Batcave was one of the safest places in the world. She made her way to the area of the Batcave designated for sleeping, before settling on one of the beds and trying to get some rest.

Now, all she had to do was wait, something she was skilled at.

Three days later, her phone rang. The caller id registered as an unknown number, which made her breath catch in her throat. With faintly trembling hands, she picked up the phone and pressed the answer button.

“Spyral will no longer try to contact Helena Bertinelli and Dick Grayson. You both will be left alone and are free to live your lives however you wish.” Tiger calmly stated, before hanging up before she could get anything out.

Helena incredulously stared at her phone, and it took a moment for the words to properly register. Once they did, hysterical laughter escaped her lips as she doubled over, her entire body trembling.

Helena barely noticed the sound of footsteps racing over to her. Rough hands gripping her shoulders and shaking her. A gravelly voice demanding to know what was wrong. All she could focus on was the realization that she was _free_.

She was free. Free from Spyral. Free from always looking over her shoulder in fear of a gun being aimed at her back. Free from the constant paranoia that today was going to be her last day. She was _free_. Free. Free.

Once she finally managed to calm down, she played back the recording of what Tiger had said. Bruce sagged, a look of utter relief on his face.

Helena felt a wide grin split her face, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled like this. She didn’t know what to do now, but all she knew was one thing.

Freedom had never felt this amazing before.


	3. Author's Note

NOT A CHAPTER!

I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I’ll ever complete the second ending of this story. I envision these beautiful scenes in my head, but the moment I get up the word document, my mind goes blank. I really want to finish this up, but I can’t find it in myself to do it. Perhaps sometime in the future.

I figured I’d at least let you guys know, so you don’t get your hopes up about an update.

Now that I’m on break from college, I have almost unlimited time to write, yet I can barely get anything down. But while I’m at school and should be working on homework instead of procrastinating, I can write like crazy. Then again, I’ve always worked pretty well under pressure.

I desperately want to complete this and ‘To Thaw the Demon’s Frozen Heart’. But I keep getting plot bunnies in my head that won’t go away, such as ‘Strawberry Milkshake’. I’m currently working on about half a dozen new fics, at least two of them taking place in the ‘Faustian Bargains’ series. Before I get anything new out, I’m definitely going to complete a chapter of ‘To Thaw the Demon’s Frozen Heart’.

I might as well give you guys a rough outline of what I was planning for the ‘Sad Ending’.

  * The heroes got to Dick’s body first, so they were able to carry out his wishes of not being resurrected.
  * They have a funeral outside. There’s a huge turnout, due to how involved Dick is with the superhero community. If there’s been a major superhero team created, they’re bound to be there.
  * Partway through, many villains gatecrash the wake. But they’re not here to fight, they’re want to pay their respects to an honorable opponent.
  * The heroes reluctantly allow them to stay, knowing Dick would’ve wanted everyone to peacefully cooperate for once.
  * Everyone gets a few minutes to say goodbye to Dick before the casket is taken away.
  * Three characters find out the truth, and attempt to get to safety. However, Spyral tries to assassinate them in front of everyone to ensure their silence. They are successful with the one non-meta, but unsuccessful with the two metas.
  * The two survivors proceed to tell everything about what’s going on. Everyone is shocked because Dick working for Spyral was kept highly secret.
  * The two survivors leave in order to get to protect themselves since Spyral clearly knows they’re still alive. They plot to take down Spyral, wanting to ‘avenge’ the two deaths. It’s also personal since Spyral tried to kill them too.
  * The heroes are left to plan another funeral.
  * This fic is supposed to be sadness personified. In order words, if you weren’t crying at the end of this, I wouldn’t have done my job properly.

If anyone is interested in adopting this idea, feel free to message me. I’d be more than happy to provide a full outline of what I plotted out.


End file.
